The Spandrell Inquisition
by NotAFanficWriter
Summary: When Romana returned to Gallifrey, there's one thing she didn't expect.


**Disclaimer** : This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons living, dead, or undead is a co-incidence. All similarities to a certain _Monty Python_ sketch are entirely the result of John Cleese stealing a time machine from the Louvre.

Romanadvoratrelundar had recently returned to Gallifrey from E-Space. Having been away for some time, protocol demanded that she have a short interview with the Castellan before she could resume her place in Time Lord society. These discussions were, traditionally, a mere formality. Even renegades as notorious as the Doctor or the Master would not expect a thorough grilling.

"Ah, Romanadvoratrelundar," said the Castellan, as she walked into the room. "Please, take a seat."

"Thank you, Castellan."

"Now, just some simple questions before we begin. What is your name? What is the primary function of that small robot you have brought back to Gallifrey with you? What is the air-speed velocity of an unladen swallow? What is the square root of minus one? Why is a mouse when it spins?"

"Hold on a minute," she interrrupted. "I didn't expect some kind of Spandrell Inquisition."

As she said that, three figures in ridiculous clothing burst through the door in a suitably dramatic manner.

" _Nobody_ expects the Spandrell Inquisition!" Said Commander Maxil, for he was one of the three figures. "Our chief weapon is surprise. Surprise and fear. Fear and surprise." Maxil paused. "Our two weapons are fear and surprise, and time loops. Our _three_ weapons are fear, surprise, and time loops, and the Hand of Omega. Our _four_ ...no... _amongst_ our weapons," another pause. "Amongst our weaponry are such elements as fear, surprise. No, I'm sorry. I'll come in again."

The three figures trooped out of the door.

Romana sighed. "I suppose I'm obliged to say that again, aren't I?"

"I'm afraid so," said Spandrell.

"I can't just talk about something else and leave them in the other room?"

"That would be most unwise."

"Very well. I didn't expect some kind of Spandrell Inquisition."

At this, the trio of inquisitors burst in again in a manner just as dramatic, but rather more expected.

" _Nobody_ expects the Spandrell Inquisition! Amongst our weaponry are such diverse elements as: fear, surprise, time loops, the Hand of Omega, and the demat gun - Oh damn!" At this, Maxil turned to his companion Andred. "I can't say it - you'll have to say it."

"What?"

"You'll have to say the bit about 'Our chief weapons are ...'"

"I couldn't do that..."

The trio left the room again. Romana raised an eyebrow, and repeated her line. This time, the trio's entry didn't feel quite as dramatic.

"Er... Nobody...um..." said Andred.

"Expects." Hissed Maxil.

"Expects... Nobody expects the...um...the Spandrell...um..."

"Inquisition."

"I know, I know! Nobody expects the Spandrell Inquisition. In fact, those who do expect -"

"Our chief weapons are..."

"Our chief weapons are...um...er..."

"Surprise..." Reminded Maxil.

"Surprise and ..."

"Okay, stop. Stop. Stop there - stop there. Stop. Phew! Ah! ... our chief weapons are surprise...blah blah blah. Inquisitor Darkel, read the charges."

Darkel took out a display screen and read off it. "You are hereby charged that you did on diverse dates commit heresy against the High Council. I'm gonna spend my Christmas with a Dalek. And hug him underneath the mis-"

"That's enough," said Maxil. "So, Romanadvoratrelundar – if that is your real name – how do you plead?"

"I'm innocent."

Maxil laughed. "We'll soon change your mind about that!"

Maxil then turned to Andred. "Now, Andred - the mind probe!"

At the mere mention of the Mind Probe, everyone in the room gasped in shock "No. Not the Mind Probe!" They said in unison.

However, expectations were subverted, as Andred pulled out a video featuring the adventures of the Doctor's former assistant Liz Shaw. Maxil grimmaced.

"You ... Right! Tie her down." Andred and Darkel did so, even though Romana resisted.

"Right! How do you plead?"

"Innocent."

"Ha! Right! Andred, switch on the mind probe, and extract the information from her mind."

Andred pretended to flick a switch on the video cassette, and half-heartedly prodded the prisoner. " I ..."

"I _know_ , I know you can't. I didn't want to say anything. I just wanted to try and ignore your crass mistake."

"I..."

"It makes it all seem so stupid."

"Shall I...?"

"No, just pretend for Rassilon's sake. Ha! Ha! Ha! Now, prisoner- you are accused of heresy on three counts - heresy by thought, heresy by word, heresy by deed, and heresy by action - _four_ counts. Do you confess?"

"I still don't understand what I'm being accused of."

"Ha! Then we'll make you understand! Andred! Fetch ... THE CUSHIONS!"

Andred then picked up two cushions that just happened to be lying around.

"Here they are, Commander Maxil."

"Now, you have one last chance. Confess the heinous sin of heresy, reject the existence of Faction Paradox- _two_ last chances. And you shall be free - _three_ last chances. You have three last chances, the nature of which I have divulged in my previous utterance."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Right! If that's the way you want it – Inquisitors! Poke her with the soft cushions!"

Andred and Darkel carried out this 'threat'. Predictably, it did very little.

"Confess! Confess! Confess!"

"It doesn't seem to be hurting her, Commander." Said Andred.

"Have you got all the stuffing up one end?"

"Yes, Commander."

"Hm! She is made of harder stuff! Inquisitor Darkel! Fetch ... THE SOFA OF REASONABLE COMFORT!"

"The ... The ... Sofa of Reasonable Comfort?" Said Darkel, shuddering as she said it.

Andred and Darkel nipped out for a couple of seconds, before pushing in a sofa which would very definitely produce at least a reasonable level of comfort should you want to sit on it.

"So you think you are strong because you can survive the soft cushions. Well, we shall see. Inquisitors! Put her in the Sofa of Reasonable Comfort!"

Andred and Darkel proceeded to manhandle, or possibly womanhandle, Romana into the sofa.

"Now - you will stay in the Sofa of Reasonable Comfort until lunch time, with only a cup of tea at eleven." Leered Maxil. The then turned to Andred and muttered. "Is that really all it is?"

"Yes, Commander."

"I see. I suppose we make it worse by shouting a lot, do we? Confess, heretic. Confess! _Confess_! **Confess**! **C** **ONFESS**!"

"I confess!" said Andred.

"Not you!"

 **Authors notes** : This fic was originally written as a couple of chapters (featuring entirely different characters) in a longer fic that was tied in to a game on a now-defunct Doctor Who forum. In presenting it to a wider audience, I have reworked it extensively, including changing the identity of every one of the characters (who were originally players of said game).

Perhaps the most obscure reference here is that Andred pulls out a PROBE video. In the 90s, there were a number of fan-made Doctor Who spinoffs, using whatever characters they could get both the rights and actors for (many classic series characters were owned by the writers rather than the BBC). One of these series was PROBE – starring Caroline John as former companion Liz Shaw.


End file.
